


through child's eyes

by EternalWhiteRose



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Based on a song, LMAO, Tragedy, also, go read that eventually when i get to the chapter that this is used, sooooo, used as a tale in my other story lady of the sand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 11:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20620304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalWhiteRose/pseuds/EternalWhiteRose
Summary: the cycle could break now.it could.she believes it could.and if she believes hard enough maybe the gods will listen to her plea.





	through child's eyes

**Author's Note:**

> _Hoping to break the chains of reality  
Dying to set herself free_  
-"Windmills", Blackmore's Night

Link is not entirely sure where he is anymore. He is tired from walking without sleep, and it does not help that there are monsters around every corner. There are rumors of the newest incarnation of evil, a wizard that had become obsessed by the Golden Power and wanted it for itself. History is once again repeating itself. Demise has yet to let go of his strife and everything that had happened centuries ago. Maybe this will be the cycle that Link breaks the hold on himself, the princess, and the poor souls taken by Demise’s evil.

He looks up. The moon is high in the sky and the shadows of the trees are dancing around the Hero. Link, at times, feels like he is going mad, imagining that the shadows have faces and they are watching his every step. He is absolutely exhausted, his feet are threatening to give out underneath him, but he was told by the local villagers that they were being harassed by a monster in the forest. They saw the sword on his back, that blade of evil’s bane, and begged the poor teenager to go and take care of it.

Link was actually hoping to rest in the village, take a long bath to wipe the gunk off after a long day of traveling. He is sure that he has wiped more dust in his eyes than he has tried to remove. Link _stinks_, and it is all because he has not been able to take a goddess forsaken _bath. _

But he refuses to give in. Link has given himself up for the people; he is _their _Hero, and he _will _find the reason for their strife and destroy it and then have a day to relax. But he does regret leaving beloved Epona with the stableman of the village. She would have made this journey a little bit easier.

At some point on the moonlit path, Link stumbles across a woman sitting against a fallen log. The cloak wrapped around her shoulders is ripped, the piece torn off wrapped around her leg and stained a dark red with blood. Her blue eyes shoot up to meet his, and Link can see her try to get up and run, but she can barely put her weight on her leg and crumples back onto the dirt. Link drops his pack to the dirt, falling on one knee in front of her. “Please,” he rasps out, having not used his voice in quite some time. He does not like interacting with others unless it is necessary. “Let me help.”

Link clears his throat as the woman relaxes her posture, so Link approaches and touches the tattered cloth. He unwraps her leg; the piece of fabric is very poorly applied and it is a little stuck onto the wound, and it is sticky and still bleeding. He has no idea what could have created a gash like this. A bokoblin? A miniblin? Maybe a deku baba managed to nab her leg as she tried to escape? He glances up at her and her face has gone pale at the sight. He is not surprised. It looks bad.

“How did you manage this?” he asks, and the woman swallows hard.

“I slipped. There was a branch poking out and it was thicker than I had expected when I hit it so it did not break.”

Link blinks as he reaches into his pack and pulls out a bottle of water. He takes the cloth and folds it to a clean portion (or as clean as a dirt-covered cloak could be) and then pours the water over the gash, wiping it down to rid it of the blood. He rummages in his pack again because he knows that he stuffed an ointment from a hag he met near Zora’s River some time ago. It is in a little ceramic pot—there it is. He pulls it out and opens it, the scent of medicine wafting into his nose. Link moves his head away and suppresses a gag, scooping a small amount on his fingers and slathering it on the woman’s wound.

When he looks up again, she is looking down at his hand, the one with the Triforce permanently tattooed onto the skin, with the bottom right triangle slightly lighter in hue and raised like a scar. The second she notices his eyes on hers, however, she looks away. Link raises a brow, but think it nothing more than curiosity followed by embarrassment.

He does not think anything of it.

* * *

Zelda is nervous. She _knows _the young man in front of her is the Hero; she has heard many a tale of his triumphs in this life. She hates that destiny has brought them to this point. He is so gentle, so caring for everyone he meets, and it is unfair. The Gods are unfair, as they always have been, refusing to intervene way back when Hylia and Demise were at war. Instead they left Her to fend for herself and then Demise ended up cursing the world into a never ending cycle of evil, with a new one being born at the end of the last.

Zelda knows that what she has to do here tonight, at this long awaited meeting, and she hopes and prays that it will finally be enough to break the curse. She is sick and tired of living this waking nightmare every single lifetime, never knowing precisely when the evil is going to hit. She wants any lives that come after this one to live in peace.

She looks once again at the Hero. His clothes are ripped in some places, and he is very dirty, but that is probably because he is too kind for his own good and took on this task without a break. Bless his heart, he has always been benevolent and always willing to put others before himself. He has bags under his eyes, but those eyes still hold the same fire she has always seen in lives before this one. Zelda wants to cry when she sees his Triforce of Courage on his hand. She hates the Gods.

The Hero turns back to his pack and Zelda reaches behind her, under her cloak for the dagger nestled in its sheath.

He spends too long rummaging through his bag and Zelda shuts her eyes and trusts the dagger into his back.

The Hero sputters, falls to the ground, and reaches around to try to grab at the knife lodged into his back. Zelda cries, “I am sorry, Hero.” His arm falls back to the ground. “I believe that this is the only way to break the cycle.” He stops making noises. “History has never seen this outcome. Maybe everything will change.” His chest and hand begin to glow and a golden triangle emerged from his hand, shimmering and illuminating the darkness around her. “Forgive me, Farore, for taking your child.”

Zelda reaches out and cups the Triforce piece, her own hand glowing with the Triforce of Power and Wisdom. It fades into her hand, completing the trio and burning slightly as the skin rises slightly. She grabs the dagger from the Hero’s back and pulls it out, spraying droplets of blood onto his clothes, and flips the weapon so that the blade faces her chest.

Zelda takes a deep breath, and in her final act of treason against the Royal Family, the Gods, and all of Hyrule’s long history, she plunges the dagger into her chest.

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

(the cycle begins again, and the son of Power and child of Courage are born with malice towards the daughter of Wisdom. the Gods did change fate. but not in the way the daughter had anticipated.)

**Author's Note:**

> sooo  
this is actually a tale that will be used in a future (as of this posting) chapter of my other fic "lady of the sand". im not gonna spoil it but basically its a major plot point  
this fic is inspired by the song "Windmills" by Blackmore's Night! its one of my favorites by them  
also  
im sorry :3


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